


Whiskey and Wine

by mjules



Category: Firefly, Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-28
Updated: 2010-02-28
Packaged: 2017-10-07 15:11:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/66351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mjules/pseuds/mjules
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A doctor, an intern, and a whatever-Jim-is walk into a bar...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whiskey and Wine

It was, without exaggeration, the most exhausted Leonard McCoy had ever been.  He was a trauma surgeon.  He was used to being tired down to his very bones, something he’d complained of more than once.  But tonight… tonight just took the fucking cake.

 

He was off shift in seven minutes if they didn’t have any more emergencies…  If he could just make it seven more minutes, he could go home, get really fucking drunk, and not bother waking up until someone came looking for him or his beeper went off.

 

There was nothing like getting paged for a phone call from his daughter—at one o’clock in the fucking _morning_—and trying to decipher words through teary whispers and hiccups, finally breaking the code to figure out that this wasn’t the normal wake-up-in-the-middle-of-the-night-and-miss-Daddy-’cause-he’s-at-work phone call.

 

“I don’t know where we are!” Joanna had sobbed, her five-year-old voice so broken up he almost couldn’t understand her. 

 

“Shh, baby, shh.”  He’d gripped the phone so tightly he’d thought the old plastic was going to crack, turning his back to the curious-eyed graveyard shift nurses at the desk and lowering his voice.  “It’s okay, darlin’, you’re gonna be okay.  Do you know where your momma is?”

 

“She’s in the living room watchin’ TV with Doctor Clay.”

 

_Son of a bitch_.

 

He squeezed his eyes shut tight and pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling the swirl of vertigo and the burn in his tear ducts that said it was going to be a race to see if he could manage to get drunk before he passed the hell out. 

 

He’d finally managed to get enough details out of Joanna to put the pieces together.  Clay hadn’t shown up for his shift that night (which would be why McCoy had the scariest genius intern he’d ever met doing shit he really wasn’t cleared to do) and Joanna had woken up lost and disoriented in the bedroom of a hotel suite where Clay and Jocelyn were macking on the couch to late night infomercials and variety shows.

 

_“She’s kissin’ him like she kisses you, Daddy.”_

And god_damn_ them for putting Jo in that situation, for fucking _kidnapping_ her out of her bed while she was sleeping and he wasn’t around to do anything about it—

 

“Dr. McCoy?”

 

Leonard looked up, blinking a few times to clear his blurred vision, to see the scary genius intern kid looking very concerned.  What was his name?  Simon something, right.

 

“Tam.  How you holdin’ up, kid?”

 

The kid shifted and cleared his throat uncomfortably.  McCoy almost smiled.  Tam _hated_ being called a kid—which meant that Leonard did it as often as possible.  He guessed he probably owed the kid some respect, though.  He’d worked a fucking hard shift, and it wasn’t like McCoy had been a fucking flower girl.

 

“I was about to ask you the same thing, Doctor.”  The concern in Tam’s eyes didn’t fade and McCoy scrubbed a hand over his face before looking up at the clock.  Two minutes.  He didn’t dare jinx it by saying it out loud.

 

“I’m not dead yet.”  He smiled wanly.  “And neither are any of our patients.  You did damn fine work tonight, Dr. Tam.”

 

The kid’s eyes widened almost comically, his pretty boy mouth dropping open on a silent syllable before he finally stammered, “Th-thank you.”

 

Less than a minute left.  McCoy started relaxing, muscle by muscle, even though he knew better.  He knew better than to relax before he was out of the hospital, on his way home.  He was technically off for the next two days, even though he was on call, but they couldn’t call him back until he’d had time to sleep.  He hoped.

 

The clock finally ticked over and McCoy did allow his head to drop back and his eyes to close. 

 

“Have a good night, Dr. Tam,” he said wearily, already heading toward the door.  He’d finished up the last of his paperwork ten minutes ago.  “Thanks for your help.”

 

Tam’s eyes followed him, dark and intense, his lips parted like he was on the verge of saying something that terrified him.  Leonard pretended not to see and brushed past him.  The kid was pretty as hell, sure, but not only did Leonard not play around with coworkers, it was too damn soon—especially for a guy.

 

It wasn’t like Jocelyn’s desertion was unexpected, although Leonard was going to fucking kill Clay Treadway if he ever saw the bastard again for walking out and leaving him on his own on a fucking graveyard shift.  He and Jocelyn had drawn an uneasy truce after their last big fight, and the subject had settled cold and hard between them like an arctic rock.  Their Cold War, however, was apparently over, and it was Jocelyn who’d finally pushed the red button.

 

_“You’re gay, Leonard!  How could you do this to me?”_

_“I’m bi, Jocelyn.  For fuck’s sake, there’s a difference.”_

_“But you’ve slept with men!”_

_“So have you!”  _He’d known it was the stupidest thing to say as soon as it was out of his mouth.  He should have said something like, “But now I’m only sleeping with you,” or “But I fell in love with you,” or any number of things besides the smart-ass thing he’d actually said.__

_“Leonard, you fucking slept with Jim.”_

As if everyone and their brother—almost literally—hadn’t slept with Jim Kirk.  He was McCoy’s best friend and had hit his wild college phase while Leonard was in grad school, when he and Jocelyn were “taking a break” from each other.

 

Maybe they should have made that break permanent, all the way back then. 

_“I slept with him once.  That’s all anyone ever sleeps with Jim.  And why is this an issue, Joss?  Are we going to start bringin’ up every guy you ever fucked?  ’Cause the way I heard it around Ole Miss, there was a regular laundry list.”_

So no, it wasn’t a surprise that Jocelyn had left him.  It was just a surprise that she’d done it in the middle of the night and taken Joanna with her.  He’d figured that maybe they could have a civil divorce, joint custody, split up the furniture and vehicles and alimony.  Apparently, he’d figured wrong.

 

“Dr. McCoy.”

 

Leonard stopped walking and tried—and failed—to keep from rolling his eyes.  “Yes, Dr. Tam?”  He tried—and failed again—to keep the impatience out of his voice.

 

“I was wondering—uh, well, that is—there’s—”

 

The kid was blushing, and Leonard just barely held in a groan.  Great.  Of all the fucking things he didn’t need right now.

 

“Look, kid, I’m not exactly on the market right now.  Sorry.”

 

“What?  No!  I mean—you’re not—I’m not—that is—” 

 

 

“I was simply going to extend the invitation to you to—to—relax.”  Tam’s indignant flush began to fade as he got himself back under control, a moue of sympathy taking over.  “I—I heard.  From the nurses.  About your—that is….”

 

“Don’t hurt yourself, kid,” Leonard growled, all the while figuring out which nurse he was going to fucking _terrify_ on the next review.  It wouldn’t have been Chapel—she’d never do that to him.  He wouldn’t have thought Riley would either, but he’d been wrong before. 

 

Tam huffed again and blurted, “It’s just a damn drink.”

 

Leonard blinked slowly, amusement creeping in past the howling hurt and cold frustration that he’d been keeping just under the surface.  “I don’t believe I’ve ever heard you curse before, Dr. Tam,” he drawled.

 

“Yes.  Well.”  Back to the clipped tone, and this time Leonard did smile.  As much as he didn’t want company tonight, the kid had been a lifesaver when it came to filling in for Treadway—fucking slackass traitor—so he figured he owed him something.  Besides, any bar in the area was going to shut down in forty-five minutes, so it wasn’t like he’d be trapped for too long.

 

“All right, fine.  Civvies first.”

 

No use in scaring potential patients by getting shitfaced while he was still in scrubs and a white coat.

 

***

 

She saw them when they walked in.  This time of night, there weren’t a lot of new customers.  Last call was in thirty minutes, and most everybody was passed out over the bar, drooling on the scratched mahogany surface.  She recognized one of them—he was kind of a regular, and right pretty to look at—but not the taller fella who came in with him. 

 

“_Serenity?_  It sounds like a funeral home, not a goddamn bar.”

 

“You keep talkin’ like that about my bar, and I might be able to make you right,” Kaylee purred with a deceptively sweet smile.  Mal would probably have a heart attack—again—if he heard her refer to it as _her bar_, but he could damn well get over it.  She put just as much of her own sweat and blood into this place as he ever did.

 

The handsome stranger did a double take at her and nodded slightly, like he was bowing with just his head.  Her heart fluttered a little at the gesture.  He wasn’t as _pretty_ as his companion, but there was something about him, in the way he moved and spoke and met her eyes, that started slow-burning embers glowing down in her belly.

 

“My apologies, ma’am,” he said, his voice drawling out like sweet honey and peaches.  “Dr. Leonard McCoy.”  He held out his hand, and when she took it to shake, he brought hers to his lips.  “I didn’t mean any offense.”

 

His friend, the intern she’d seen in the bar half a dozen times before and never learned the name of, was staring at McCoy like he’d never seen the man before, even though they’d walked in together.

 

“This knothead is Dr. Simon Tam.  We work over at Enterprise Medical.”

 

“Pleasure to meet you both, Doctors.  What can I get y’all to drink?  Better hurry up—it’s nearly last call.”

 

“Bourbon, darlin’, neat.”  That was Dr. McCoy.

 

She watched him through narrowed eyes and smiled slyly.  “Ryed or wheated?”  Most people didn’t know the difference between smooth wheat bourbon and spicy rye bourbon, but she had a feeling he might.

 

The expression on his face—surprised, pleased, and a little turned on—was exactly what she’d hoped to see.  “Well, since you asked, I’m thinkin’ it’s a wheat night.  Not that there’s anything wrong with a little spice….”

 

“I got just the thing for you.”  She turned her attention to Dr. Tam and smiled.  “And what for you, sugar?”  She could swear she’d seen the man watching her before when he’d come in, but right now he was looking right over her left shoulder instead of meeting her eyes.  She almost sighed at him.  _Men._

 

“I’ll just have a—um, a—”

 

“You want your usual?” 

 

He looked flustered, but the surprise was enough to make him finally look her in the eye.  His gaze darted away like a scared rabbit and she rolled her eyes as she turned around to peruse her liquors. 

 

As she was pouring, she heard Dr. Tam tell his companion that he was going to the restroom, so she saved his rum and Coke for last and poured Dr. McCoy a shot of one of her rare wheat bourbons.  A man who knew the difference deserved to taste it.  Everyone else got the overrated names.

 

She set the glass down in front of him and smiled.  “Tell me what you think about that one.”

 

He arched an eyebrow at her, and she wondered what it was about the sharp gesture that looked so damn tasty on him.  She watched him take a slow, careful sip of the whiskey and wanted to lick the shine right off his lower lip.  He did it for her, and she bit her lip, smiling at him when his eyes lit up.

 

“Darlin’, that is some damn fine whiskey.  Mind tellin’ me what it is?”

 

She grinned wider and set the bottle on the bar in front of him, turning the label so he could read it.  “Pappy Van Winkle.  Twenty-three-year-old Reserve, and trust me when I say ain’t just anyone gets a taste of this.”

 

He smirked at her as he took another sip, and she thought she caught an edge of sadness to the expression. 

 

“You all right, sweetie?” she asked quietly, leaning in so the other patrons in various stages of passed-out couldn’t hear her over the jukebox playing country tunes.  “You look kinda sad.”

 

When he met her eyes that time, she felt like he’d reached out and grabbed her, and she couldn’t move away. 

“It’s been a rough night,” he finally said.  He sat back a little, digging into his pocket, and she put her hand out to stop him from paying.

 

“No, it’s all right, I—”  She stopped when, instead of money, he tossed a plain gold band down on the bar.  She stared at it for a minute before she touched his hand, curling her fingers around his and squeezing gently.  “Oh, sweetie.  I’m so sorry.  D’you wanna talk about it?”

 

He scoffed quietly and took another sip of the Van Winkle.  “Nothin’ to talk about.  The other doctor supposed to be on shift with me tonight decided to leave me hangin’ so he could take off with my wife and daughter.”

 

“That goatfucker!”  McCoy barked out a surprised laugh, and Kaylee shrugged, biting her lip.  “Not that your wife… ex?... is a goat or anything.  I mean.”

 

He was still laughing quietly when Kaylee spotted Dr. Tam coming back from the restroom and turned around to put fresh ice in the tumbler with Coke and a generous dash of rum.

 

She gave them a little space after Dr. Tam settled back on the bar stool, going to check on some of her other customers to make sure they knew it was almost time to get up and pour themselves into taxis to get home.  They were sad old men, mostly, who spent their late nights and early mornings in here with her, getting drunk with a handful of strangers to keep from going home to an empty house and drinking alone.

 

She tried not to look over her shoulder at McCoy as she shook old Badger awake.  She didn’t even know the man’s real name; she called him Badger because Mal hadn’t called him anything else from the day he walked in.  He never really seemed to leave.  Now, all her attention was focused behind her, on the quiet sound of the doctors talking, the ice shifting in Tam’s glass.

 

She’d seen her share of broken men here in Nashville, and not all of them had been sitting across a bar from her, but there was something in the rawness of McCoy’s expression that made her want to give him somewhere soft and warm to sleep.  She wanted to hold him against her and tuck her quilts around his shoulders and let him fall asleep somewhere safe.  She mostly just didn’t want him going home alone to a house that was newly empty of his family, the woman he’d loved and the girl he still did.

 

And she wouldn’t say no to a chance to touch him for a while, to kiss some of the pain out of his eyes, caress a little comfort into the hard set of his mouth.

 

She knew it wouldn’t turn into anything, and she also knew it would probably scare skittish Dr. Tam off—not that she was sure he was ever going to get around to making a move anyway—but…

 

The door opened on a blast of cold air and she straightened up to tell the newcomer that they were closing in two minutes and she wasn’t serving anybody, but the man who strode in wearing camouflage fatigues wasn’t looking for a drink.  He looked around the bar until his eyes settled on the men at the bar, and he gave her a brief wave as he headed toward them.

 

“Bones.”  His voice was quiet but intense and carried to her across the room.

 

McCoy turned on his barstool, surprised and wary but—she thought—pleased.  “Jim!  What the hell are you doing here?”

 

“You son of a bitch, I’ve been looking for you—”  The man—Jim—sighed and ran a hand through his already-tousled hair.  “The hospital said you’d left almost an hour ago.  I didn’t even know where to look.  Chapel suggested… Bones, are you okay?”

 

“Calm down, Jim.” 

 

Kaylee slapped Badger’s hands off her hips as he started to wake up and get a little grabby.  He made a wounded noise and slid back down to lay his head on the table.  She’d get Mal to come get the guy up in a minute.  It was his bar too; he could deal with the bums sometimes.  Right now, she was too busy watching McCoy and this… Jim.

 

McCoy ran a hand through his hair, almost a mirror echo of Jim’s earlier gesture, and she wondered if they were brothers or just really close friends.

 

“I’m… I’m fine.  Did you drive all the way up here from Fort Benning?”

 

Jim nodded, hesitating as he cast a glance first toward Dr. Tam and then toward Kaylee.  McCoy waved dismissively.  “They know.  Go ahead.”

 

“Jocelyn called me as she was leaving, I guess.  Said something about having you all to myself if I had enough patience to pick up the pieces.  What the fuck, Bones?”

 

McCoy sighed and stood up, reaching into his pocket.  This time Kaylee knew he was going for money, and she walked up to him, putting her hand on his arm.

 

“Don’t bother, honey,” she told him.  “It’s on me.  Not every night somebody comes in with the taste to appreciate my best bourbon.”

 

“I appreciate it, darlin’,” he said, his voice rich and dark like a perfect summer’s night.  She shivered just a little, smiling when he leaned over and kissed her, soft and sweet, right on the lips. 

 

She felt Jim and Dr. Tam both react and smiled, putting a hand around the back of McCoy’s neck to hold him still while she kissed him back, just for a moment.

 

“You’re welcome.” 

 

He kissed her again, this time on the forehead, and then looked up at Jim.  “All right,” he said to his friend.  “Take me home, and I’ll tell you the whole story.”  He nodded at Dr. Tam, commenting, “Thanks again, Tam.  Oh and—don’t sit on it too long, kid.”

 

McCoy walked out, Jim trailing in his wake like a concerned puppy, leaving Dr. Tam to look bewildered and, Kaylee noted with some satisfaction, a little jealous.

 

“What,” she said, putting her hands on her hips and trying to sound stern.  “You think yours is on the house, too?”

 

“Oh!  I—excuse me, I’m sorry, I was—”

 

“Kidding!”  Kaylee rolled her eyes.  “Dang, you’re easy.  C’mon, help me get these fellas in a taxi, and we’ll close up for the night.”

 

She laughed as the young man jumped up to do as he was told.  She looked out the window at the sidewalk, where Jim and Dr. McCoy were standing beside a car that was still running.  Apparently, Jim had been in an awful big hurry to find his friend.  She watched as Jim reached for McCoy, his hand hesitating awkwardly on McCoy’s shoulder before he pulled him into a hug.  McCoy seemed to lean into him for a minute before he pulled back and pushed Jim away, steering him toward the front of the car, but Kaylee could see his eyes, and she could see the difference there.  He was still sad, but he didn’t look so lonely anymore.  He wasn’t going home alone.

 

“Um, Miss…?”

 

“Call me Kaylee,” she said, turning to see what Dr. Tam wanted.

 

“K-Kaylee… how do I…?”

 

Badger had slumped over and latched onto Dr. Tam’s legs, his arms locked around the doctor’s thighs and his face—slack with sleep, wet snores drifting out of his open mouth—pressed against Dr. Tam’s crotch.

 

“Um, help?” Dr. Tam tried again, and Kaylee just laughed until she couldn’t breathe.


End file.
